Читать книгу This Place of Prose and Poetry - Lucian Krukowski - Страница 9

For you and me, it’s time to pee—

but after you my dear, my second me—

or done by us in tandem, holding hands.

Then we’ll fly, both you and I,

across the waning summer’s sky.

To that other shore we’ll go,

although it lies too far for us

to appreciate its flowers and trees—

because our purpose (really) is to contemplate

the doings just before the pearly gate.

But we’ll try—the door to excess is ajar:

Apfel Strudel. Wiener Schnitzel.

Cunnilingus by the Sea.

Saltinbocca. Tarantella—also Salmonella.

Annunciation hoping for a better strategy.

In the morning, after matins, we’ll eat some waffles.

Evenings—why not taste the prolix of Rijkstoeffel?

Good times will come, you’ll see,

when skating up and down—over’s fine, but never under—

(best is going round and round)—

the cold indifferent waters of the Zuider Zee.